But Nanashi Never Came
by PegasusAcc
Summary: *Rating likely to change dramatically* It's been eight years since the two war-torn children met. But now Midii's back, and she's ready to pull Trowa into mission that could easily kill both of them.
1. Chapter One

Author's Note: Hey everyone!  I'm sorry it's taken me so long to finally write another fan fiction, but I've had no time!  Not to mention the biggest writers block you've ever seen! *Clutches head as if in pain*  It's a bit different from my other stories (I wanted to try something new) but I wanted it to include Midii and Trowa…(since my other 3xMU still remains unfinished *sniff*).  I promise to work on my story _Love and Betrayal_ as soon as I can Midii!  Honest!

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BUT NANASHI NEVER CAME

Chapter One:

Headquarters was an absolute whirlwind of excitement and mass confusion.  There was gossip buzzing madly around the compound.  Unsigned papers and documents cluttered half the staff's desks.

The male half.  

It had been six months since a new arrival was promoted to working at headquarters.  And the news was that Lady Une had even surpassed Preventer Yuy in assigning the position.  She kept her reasons, as well as the identity of newest recruit, a secret.  The only thing that had managed to leak out was that the officer was female.

"I bet it's that hot brunette from Earth," an officer whispered to his comrade from behind the security of his hand.  "You know, the one who recently stopped the assassination attempt on Vice Foreign Minister Dorlian?"

"Nah," he hissed back in a hoarse tone.  "Yuy already talked to her and thanked her personally.  Besides, if Une were bringing her here, what would all the secrets be for?"  

His friend was about to protest but at that moment Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton turned the corner of the metal corridor.  He quickly snapped his mouth shut and attempted to revert his gaze from the cold, hardened one of probably the most irritable Preventer of all.

Heero's eyes, as well as his entire physique, were unusual hard at the moment.  His temples throbbed and his jaw muscles clenched tightly.  He brushed passed the lower officers with hardly even a glance, even though he had heard the mention of his name long before he had turned the corner.  People just couldn't learn how to keep their mouths shut.

His strides were long and swift; his hands shoved into the pockets of his forest-green Preventer jacket.  It wasn't often he was surpassed, especially without any motive as to why.  But that had definitely been what happened that afternoon.

The pilot, still outraged at Lady Une's extreme actions, took a deep breath.  It was his job to interview possible Preventers to be moved to headquarters.  He was the one after all, who had the most knack for picking out a liar or spy.  Une had no right to surpass his authority and hire someone whose name wouldn't even be mentioned.

Trowa smiled inwardly, noticing his partner's intense acerbity.  Heero always did have a 'don't-mess-with-me' aura about him, but today it seemed greatly intensified.  His quickened pace was only one of the almost invisible signs of irritation that only he and the other gundam pilots could notice. 

He took a deep breath, inhaling through the nose and blowing it out into the deep brown bangs that concealed half his face.  He'd changed a bit over the years, grown to be nearly six foot, and his figure had become much more masculine.  But his face had always stayed the same.  It's contours were still darkened with the pain and sorrows that we inevitable with war.  His eyes…still the jaded green they had always been.  

It was something that Catherine told him always set him apart in the crowd.  "Not everyone has eyes like you do Trowa," she'd told him one night after a show.  "Just look at all those girls.  They're simply swooning over you.  It's as if you could drown in their depth, but if you blink, they suddenly become shallow and hardened.  Ever changing…and yet always the same…"

The two walked toward the hangar in silence, minus the hollow echoing of their footfalls.  Even though Lady Une had cut Heero out of her interview, he and Trowa had still been assigned to receive the new recruit.  Was there even a need for a new officer?  Trowa wondered as he slid his security card through the keypad of the staff elevator.  

As the wire cage began to descend, the two caught sight of the shuttle as it pulled into the hangar.  An aggravated growl rose in the back of Heero's throat.  It wasn't _her_ fault, he reminded himself.  

"You know, Heero-" Trowa began in a seemingly casual tone, but Heero knew him well enough to realize that Trowa's laid-back manner meant to should listen.  "Lady Une technically had the right to make the executive decisions.  She is head of Preventer after all.  You might be important to the organization…but it's _her_ organization."  

Heero's muscles loosened a bit, the logic finally settling in.  That was true.  He just wasn't used to being ignored.     

The cage came to an abrupt halt.  Slowly the un-oiled gate whined and opened.  The two headed toward the stream of people shuffling anxiously off the passenger shuttle.  

"How the hell does Lady Une expect us to find her new recruit if we don't know what she looks like?" Heero inquired irritably, scanning the crowd.  Trowa merely shrugged his shoulders.  

The two waited apprehensively, Heero still goaded about his involuntary absence in the decision.  The mass began to dwindle, and soon the hangar was nearly empty. 

"Well-" Heero grunted, turning to leave.  "Just shows what a great Preventer she would have made.  She can't even catch a shuttle.  I told Lady Une-"

He stopped as he noticed Trowa wasn't following.  "Trowa-" he barked.  

But he wasn't listening.  He stood rooted to the spot, a thousand memories rushing painfully through his mind.  He blinked, then blinked again.  It couldn't be.  No, it had to be some uncanny coincidence; there would be no way it could possibly be true.  

His breath caught in his chest, a twinge of pain jolting through his heart.  It had been so long, but the ache was just as agonizing as it had been that day.  _"There's nothing that ties you down.  You have no name, no past- and now no comrades."_  That had been the most difficult thing he had ever done- walking away without looking back.  It took every ounce of his self restraint not to run back and hold her tightly in his arms.  

Much like it did at this exact moment. 

Her hair was still the same pale gold, resting gently in tendrils on her now defined shoulders.  Her skin glowed under the fluorescent lights.  A saddlebag hung at her side, and the Preventer symbol could be seen stitched into the dark green fabric of her jackets right sleeve.  

She strode confidently toward the two, her azure eyes glistening with audacity.  Her steps were light, barely echoing from the now deserted hangar.

"You weren't planning to leave without me, where you?" she questioned, a sly smirk adorning her youthful features.  Heero turned toward the girl and replied with a short grunt.  

Trowa couldn't breathe.  Why…why was she here?

"I take it you're the new recruit?" Heero mumbled.  The woman smiled and held out her perfectly manicured hand.

"Indeed.  Nice to meet you Mr. Heero Yuy."

Heero glared at her.  For some reason she seemed to rub him the wrong way.  Her impudence was rather annoying.  But then again, it hadn't been a good day all around.

"Nice to meet you…" Heero trailed.  

But at that moment, Trowa and her caught each others searching glances.  Neither one of their eyes had changed…not since that day.

Her hand immediately dropped.  Subconsciously she pushed her way past the hanging Zero pilot and stood in front of the silent figure behind him.  Her breath caught, like so many times before.

He was the same as the small boy who had continually plagued her mind for so many sleepless nights in the past.  His hair masked half his face, concealing one of his jade eyes.  Eyes that she had been drowning in for so long…

But now they were hard and shallow.  Cold, like the barrel of the gun that she had been sure that would end her life, and yet somehow managed to miss.

Pulling herself together, she let a smile caress her lips.  She held out her hand to the new pilot and warmth filled her as he took it in his own.

"Nice to meet you," she crooned softly.  "My name is Midii Une." 

He stared at her, his emotions mixed and disfigured.  She had used her name, made no attempt to hide who she was…or what she was.

He slid his hand from her grip, his fingers trailing over her delicate skin.

Heero stood, his questioning gaze resting and relying on Trowa for answers.  But he remained silent, his body set with an unusual amount of rigidity.

Instead, the answer came from the thrilled Preventer chief.

"Midii!" Lady Une shrieked, rushing over to the girl from the elevator.  "Midii it's so wonderful to finally meet you!"  She pulled her into a loving embrace.  She held her tightly, and Trowa wished more than anything that he could be the one hugging her angelic figure.  Lady Une pulled her back, gazing into her face.  She sighed.

"You look just like your mother…"

Midii's eyes dropped to the floor.  Maybe this had been a mistake, she pondered anxiously.  Already she had been swathed with painful memories of her past, things she had tried so hard to forget.  Nanashi- with his eyes that always seemed to be searching her soul.  Her mother- someone she had never met and yet somehow was the exact replica of.  And the mysterious Lady Une- supposedly her father's half-sister, whom he had never mentioned.  Perhaps she should leave.  Go back home to the things that were familiar to her.  Away from here; from the haunting images of things that had died from her all those years ago.  Home…but away from Nanashi.

She lifted her head confidently, the gleam again reborn in her eye's unfathomable depths.  This is where she belonged now…or at least for the moment.

"Yes," she replied finally, masking her ambivalent feelings.  "So I've been told before.  But it's not as if I can give a first hand account."  Lady Une's eyes glazed over with compassion.  

"I'm sorry…it must be so difficult…being all alone…"

The sting jeered at Trowa's heart.  Alone…a word he had been acquainted with for so long.  Now one of the few people who understood him was a friend to the feeling as well.  Once again, they were the same…

Midii caught his searching glances and it locked with her own.  She stared confidently back at him.  "Very," she admitted, brushing a wisp of hair away from her eyes.  "But I learned how to deal with emotional pain at a very young age."  Trowa swallowed hard.  "But that's inevitable during war, isn't?" she said, directing her comment toward the silent soldier. 

Lady Une caught their glances and withdrew from her hold of the girl so she could take in the two together.  "Midii," she began, carefully picking her words to minimize the painful memories it might cause.  "Midii…do you and Preventer Barton know each other?"

Midii closed her eyes, remembering the small, resolute boy who could have so easily taken her life.  _Good-bye Midii…_ he had whispered.  She could still hear his haunting words echo through her beset mind.  

"No…" she began slowly, noticing the brief glimpse of surprise spring into his eyes.  "I don't know Preventer Barton.  I only know the nameless soldier who he once was.  Hello Nanashi."  

Both Heero and Lady Une stared at the two in disbelief.  Suddenly Lady Une became aware of the tension between the two former acquaintances.  Perhaps her plan would not work out as smoothly as she had planed.  

Midii only smiled, the warm feeling she had first received when her gaze fell on Nanashi quickly diminishing.  Now feelings of contempt…hatred…and resentment consumed her.  She had loved him…possibly still loved him…but now all she could do was hide behind the tearless mask he had taught her so well.

Can I never escape you Nanashi?  She thought miserably.  Am I forever doomed to carry your image in my heart?

Finally she spoke, her words cautiously chosen and strung together with the finest care.  "I have nothing to hide from you Nanashi.  If you wanted me dead you could have easily ended it eight years ago.  But you didn't and now I'm here."  She looked at Lady Une, the only family she had left.  "Would you mind if I retired for the night?  It was rather a long flight from Earth and I find I'm very tired…"

Lady Une nodded silently and headed towards the elevator.  This could be a potential problem, she thought gloomily as she waited for Midii to follow.

Trowa swallowed hard as Midii looked at him one last time.  "Good-bye Nanashi…" she whispered quietly as she turned to leave.

Pain consumed his heart.  She had been the only one to call him that and make it sound as if it were truly a name.  But she had changed so much.  There was no doubt in his mind that she was the same girl he had left, alone on the desolate battlefield.  But now it was almost as if she had transformed into a completely new, dispassionate person.

Her eyes no longer cried with pain, or glistened with fear and uncertainly.  They were hard and unmoving, like those of a soldier.  She had shown no emotion at their reunion.  No sign that she shared the same feeling that he did.

But now those feelings vanished like a wisp of smoke on a windy day.  Anger bubbled inside of him.  Images of a field of massacre distorted his vision and the smell of mixed sulfur and blood lingered under his nose.

It was her fault.  It had been all her fault!  The death, the destruction.  She deserved whatever pain and agony had been inflicted on her.  There was no amount of suffering that could equal the pain she had caused others…and him.

Suddenly Trowa was filled with spite.  He pivoted around, glaring at Heero.  His face still flawless and emotionless, he spoke cold and empty.  "Lets go." 


	2. Chapter Two

But Nanashi Never Came

Chapter Two:

Trowa pounded madly on Lady Une's office door. The golden nameplate shone in the expiring sunlight that still managed to intrude between the cracks in the blinds. Fellow Preventers gave him sideways glances as he slammed his fist into the wood again. "Listen, Une! I know you're still there. Open up!"

Lady Une opened the door irritably, her hair only half unbraided; red ribbon streamed over her shoulder. "What's the meaning of this?" she snapped, expecting some lower class officer to be attempting to bang down her door in such an unruly manner. "B-Barton," she stuttered slightly, noticing the piercing green gaze in front of her. Trowa shoved past her into the cluttered office without a single spoken word. She suppressed a growl to the back of her throat and let the door swing shut with a gentle click. She gave the trailing ribbon a gentle tug and watched in the window's reflection as her hair tumbled down gently. She walked tiredly behind her desk, falling into the chair.

Trowa leaned onto the former Colonel's desk, his gaze now masked by a sweep of bangs that cast a dark shadow across his face. "What the hell are you doing bringing Midii Une to Headquarters?" he finally burst, clutching the edges of the desk. "What is she doing, being a Preventer at all?" His jaw clenched.

Lady Une concealed the shock on her face by pretending to yawn. "What is it to you, Officer Barton? Last time I checked, I was the executive chief of Preventer, and I retain the right to promote and demote any officer of my liking. That responsibility lies with me, and me alone, despite what Officer Yuy may believe." Trowa grit his teeth slightly as Lady Une turned away from him to gaze absently out the window.

"But why is she a Preventer in the first place?" he repeated. Lady Une's head snapped toward the pilot. "She can't be better than any of the other spies we have at our disposal."

"Disposal?" Lady Une snapped crossly. "We're not in a war anymore Barton, and I will remind you that in times of peace _no one_ is 'disposable'. I suggest you stop thinking as a soldier of war and begin thinking as a soldier of peace." 

"My way of thinking is what has kept me alive," Trowa retorted.

Lady Une arched her eyebrows slightly. "Is that so?" she quipped, pulling out the bottom drawer of her desk. From inside she pulled a golden chain with charm and tossed it across the desktop. Trowa stared at it unbelievingly, tracing the obviously worn and loved crucifix. He could feel the invisible welding where the two pieces had been fused back together. "Do you really think you could have survived without her help?" Lady Une began again, drumming her fingers slightly. "You may hate her Trowa, for what she did to you and to those around you, but you cannot dispute the obvious fact that without her you would be dead."

Trowa clenched the cross in his fist, before tossing it back at the Preventer chief. "I don't owe her any favors; I'm not going to thank her."

"Don't worry," Lady Une said, placing the necklace back into the drawer. "I wasn't expecting it, and I don't believe that she was either. But Midii Une stays." She watched as reborn rage spread across his face.

"But all those people she killed; she was an Alliance spy-" he spat, hoping that Lady Une's background would allow her to understand.

"She was an Alliance spy, you were a former Gundam pilot and I, a high-ranking OZ commander!" she shouted, slamming her fist onto the desk. After a moment she sighed deeply and counted to ten. She could understand his fury, but things were hard enough for Midii as it was. The last thing Midii needed, Une thought decisively, was someone blaming her for her former mistakes. She glared at Trowa from beneath the shelter of her bangs. Midii had obviously caused him pain, but it was time for him to stop living in the past.

"Trowa, I've decided to send you on a new mission," she said after a brief moment. "I know it's a bit spur of the moment, but I think it's in both of your best interests. I was going to give it to Maxwell…but you'd be much more apt for this type of thing. Not to mention I'm not sure if I trust Duo alone in this type of situation."

Trowa frowned somewhat. "In both of our best interests? You don't mean-" But Lady Une had stopped listening. Already she was shuffling through the various filing cabinets, pulling out two rather large manila folders. She flung them onto her desk. "Officer Casey," she spoke into the small intercom to her secretary. "Would you please send in Midii?"

Trowa furled his fingers into a tight fist and stiffened slightly. Uncertainty danced in his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, Barton," she groaned, once again drumming her fingers. After a moment, she leaned back into her chair and heaved a great sigh through her bangs.

Midii knocked tentatively, poking her head around the door. Wet tendrils of hair fell across her face. "You called for me, ma'am?" she spoke quietly, sliding into the doorway and shutting the door softly behind. "I'm sorry it took me awhile to get down here; I was in the shower." Trowa risked a quick glance, noting the damp patches on her white shirt where her hair rested over her shoulders.

Lady Une stood abruptly. "No worries, I didn't expect someone with your credentials to become lost. I suppose you've already memorized the blueprints I sent you?" Midii nodded, shaking her fingers through her hair in attempt to relieve it of some water.

"I memorized those on the shuttle, as well as the security system configurations, arsenal stock and computer databases." Lady Une blinked.

"I…I hadn't sent those along. I had assumed you'd have enough with simply the forty-seven pages of blueprints." Midii shrugged, tying her hair with a handkerchief from her pocket.

"I understand. I simply took the liberties of accessing those myself after I had finished." Une smiled approvingly and nodded toward Trowa.

"Midii, I know that you've only arrived a headquarters, but I have a mission for you and Officer Barton."

"You can't be serious! Perhaps someone with a bit more experience with the system…" Trowa shot suddenly. Midii squinted her eyes and turned to gaze at the pilot. She took a quick breath as if to retort before Lady Une stood, sending her chair flying across the room.

"Of course I'm serious. Do I seem in a mood to be making jokes, Mr. Barton?" she strode quickly in front of him. "And besides, as Midii has just said, she's already familiar with our entire system of operations. I don't know what tension it is between you two, but frankly I don't give a damn. You _will_ be going on this mission…_both_ of you."

Midii let a brief scorn crawl across her face before it quickly disappeared. She was no more thrilled about this arrangement than Trowa, but her years of training had taught her to conceal her frustration and contempt behind a seamless, tearless mask. But then again, she thought wistfully for a moment, hadn't it had been he who had taught her such a useful still? Trowa restrained a growl.

Une let a satisfied smile grace her features. "Now then." She tossed the two files toward the pair in front of her. "There's a man on Earth by the name of Stephan Pearson. He's a rich entrepreneur and owner of Pearson Industries. During the After Colony war, both his parents were killed and he was rendered an orphan, but was quickly adopted. We've attempted to recover the adoption papers and find who in fact it was that adopted Mr. Pearson, but those files have strangely vanished. In exactly three days, Mr. Pearson will be holding a banquet in which the proceeds go toward a war orphan children's fund. However," she said lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and flipping through the paperwork. "We believe that this entire operation is a scam. Most of the money that is donated at such parties disappears into an anonymous bank with an untraceable account number. The money goes in, and a day later, it's withdrawn and never seen again."

"What are you hinting at?" Midii inquired, her eyes still running over the mounds of text and diagrams. "That Pearson makes his massive amount of money unethically? So do a lot of other entrepreneurs, but we don't worry about them. What's so special about this man?"

"We believe that Pearson is aiding and abetting someone by allowing them access to his fortune. In short, Pearson, through all the right contacts, holds all the right cards in order to start another war. The only problem is, most of our evidence is speculation. We need something tangible; that's why you two are going in." Midii grinned a moment, but it vanished as she turned the next page in the folder.

"Ma'am, it says here that-" she risked a glance at Trowa locking gazes for a brief moment. She saw spite and hatred radiating toward her before she quickly turned away. "It says her that Officer Barton and I are supposed to be married." Lady Une clapped her hands together. 

"Ah! Of course! You two will be traveling as Mr. and Mrs. Veres; a rather wealthy, newly wed couple. You'll find all of your background information in those files. We've already secured two invitations to Pearson's banquet on Thursday." Midii grinned inwardly, but Trowa only dug his fingernails into his palms. "Now, I expect that there are no _problems_ Officer Barton?" He remained silent and Lady Une took it as compliance. "Good." She glided into her seat and looked smugly at the two. What a pair they would make. She only hoped she knew what she was doing. She massaged her temples. "If there aren't any further questions…?"

Midii leafed through the paperwork one last time. "And you're sure that both of our background stories and such match?" she asked wearily. She glanced over the edge of the paper.

"Of course. I assume that that current arrangement doesn't propose any problems for the time being?" Midii stood a bit straighter and closed the file.

"None that I can see ma'am. I'm just not used to having a partner. I'm much more accustomed to solo missions; less chance of crossed wires and explosions, if you understand what I'm attempting to say." Une nodded.

"Maybe so, but neither of you could manage to pull this off alone. It requires a duet in both of your skills. I understand Trowa that you haven't had the most spy work in the department, but your acrobatic skills will be most helpful. Well then," she said, looking around. "I think that's all. You two leave tonight, so I'd think you two had better get to packing."

They both nodded, Trowa a bit more stiffly than Midii, and left. Une sat in the dimming office, attempting to control the raging heartbeat in her chest. She prayed she hadn't just set two of the most qualified Preventers in a situation they couldn't handle. She turned and looked at her reflection in the window. "I know they can handle the mission well enough," she reassured herself. She took a portion of hair, twisted it and held it on the side of her hair. "But what I'm most worried about," she spoke to her reflection, "Is if the two of them can handle each other."


	3. Chapter Three

But Nanashi Never Came

Chapter Three:

Mdii stared out of the window, focused intently on the blur of trees they passed. The air conditioning blew in her face, whipping strands of hair wildly about and causing small chills to run along her skin. The files her aunt had given her lie memorized in her lap, all two hundred and four pages of them. Midii glanced out the corner of her eye, watching Trowa as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. She growled, digging her nails into her palm.

"We might as well review everything," she began, attempting to keep her voice from being acidic. "I don't want any mistakes." Trowa glared at her, his jade eyes resonating. Midii snorted. "Do you really hate me that much? Well don't worry, if we get our parts right, we shouldn't have to be here for more than a few days. Then you'll be rid of me, and I of you." Trowa's jaw line tightened.

"My name is Bennett Veres, a twenty-three year old businessman who inherited his vast fortune from his deceased father, died A.C. 193. Most of my current business comes from industrializing new colonies, and we are currently in the middle of debates with the Winner Industries concerning a merger. I met you on one of my trips to colony XJ-19773. We fell madly in love and were married last April." His voice was harsh and sarcastic, and Midii couldn't help but mentally picture him as the young boy he'd been back on that day. She'd thought that he would have changed by now. _But I guess some things never change,_ she thought crossly.

"Name of the club?" she questioned, adverting her gaze back to the window. Buildings loomed menacingly over her, the gray giants scraping against an unending azure sky.

"Ace of Hearts," he retorted, nearly overturning around a curve. Midii slid across the car, grabbing madly at the back of her seat. She heard the crunch of their bags in the back trunk.

"Would you watch it?!" she shrieked. "We have our equipment in the back, and the last thing we need is for it to get broken."

Trowa sneered, rounding another corner rather dangerously and slamming his foot against the brake. Midii groaned, feeling the seatbelt chafe roughly against the skin of her neck as her head whipped back against the headrest. "Trowa, what the hell-"

"We're here," he snapped, sliding from the car and slamming the door with a resounding thud.

Midii massaged her neck, glaring back at Trowa from underneath her bangs. Soon she followed suit, grabbing her bags and shoving past her partner. 

Midii glanced up at the hotel, craning her neck in order to see the top. A large and intimidating presence among the other, more miniscule buildings, the Willard Inter-Continental was a century old hotel that lacked most modern conveniences while still managing to remain in fine condition. But despite the lack of current technology, the hotel was anything but unfurnished.

Trowa nudged her, a bit more curtly than necessary, and shuffled through the revolving doors. Midii followed, shifting her heavy luggage to her other shoulder and waving off the doorman offering help.

The lobby stood lavishly decorated, with deep peacock curtains draping the massive doorways and tied with gold rope on either side. Large, glass-fronted cabinets displayed ancient and highly polished delftware, while sunlight streamed in through the high windows stretching toward the ceiling. Marble columns, swimming with swirls of pink and cream, graced the entire lobby, occasionally adorned with richly woven tapestries of silk.

Midii made her way slowly to the reception desk, sidestepping the throng of other guests just let out from the banquet hall. She whistled tunelessly, shifting the weight on her shoulders again and tapped the silver bell on the counter. She sighed heavily, making a mental note to thank her aunt for the splendid reservations. Midii had known that the Willard had a marvelous reputation, but she had never expected anything as extravagant as this. She glanced around for some glimpse of the receptionist. The tapped the bell again, a frown creasing into her brow as no one appeared. She hit the bell for a third time, finally hearing a faint cry from the back room.

"Moment! Moment please!"

An instant later, a rather frazzled looking man shuffled through the doorway, pulling on his vest and straightening his tie. Despite his drained expression, he seemed rather young. In fact, Midii noted as she pulled the confirmation card from her back pocket, he showed no signs of graceful ageing whatsoever. His russet hair was a bit ruffled, his bangs hanging over his deep chocolate eyes. "Our confirmation number," she said handing him the card and taking a quick look at Trowa.

Trowa stood only a few feet away, pretending to be occupied with examining his surroundings. Midii scoffed, well aware that he simply didn't want to meet her gaze. The receptionist smiled, taking the card in his tanned hand and swiping it through slit on the side of the computer.

The computer hummed for a minute as he clicked gaily on the keys, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Midii arched a delicate eyebrow, lifting the strap from her shoulder and placing the baggage on the ground. The strap had begun to cut into her shoulder rather painfully. She glared at the receptionist tetchily, leaning her elbow onto the marbled counter and drumming her newly manicured nails impatiently. She glanced back at Trowa, making no attempt to mask her irritated features, and noticing how his weight often moved from one foot to the next as he continually refused to meet her eyes. But she didn't care. She knew what she would find in those eyes. She sighed, looking back at the receptionist.

"Haven't you found our reservations yet?" she snapped hotly. She kicked the suitcases sprawled around her feet gently, making sure not to damage the Preventer equipment concealed within the bowels of her blouses. "We made them just two days ago."

The man simply gazed at her absently. His eyes seemed to be somewhat glazed, a quirky and lopsided smile permanently fixated into his features. Midii groaned. The man typed a few more seconds into the computer before looking up at her again.

"Mr. And Mrs. Veres?" he asked, his head tilting innocently to the side. Midii clasped her hands together in quiet gratitude.

"Yes!" she nearly screamed. She swallowed hard as the other occupants of the hotel glared strangely at her. A blush rushed across her cheeks as she bent to collect her baggage. As she went to take the key, the receptionist shook his head sadly, though the smile had yet to leave his face.

"No no…" he stuttered, taking back the key from the counter. Midii made a desperate attempt to recover it as it slipped from beneath her fingers, growling in annoyance. "No no…here says two beds." The man shook his head again, grinning as he eyed Trowa and then Midii hungrily. "You one bed. Big bed."

Midii stood with her mouth slightly ajar. The bags dropped to the floor again with a muffled thump. Her fingers slowly made their way into the tendrils of her hair. She yanked, jolting quick-to-diminish patience back into her body. "No, we need two beds," she stated, attempting to inject her voice with only a mild sultry tone. "We'll be very busy tonight."

The receptionist nodded, placing the first key onto the rack and selecting another. He let it dangle in front of Midii's face. "Yes yes. Busy busy. One bed, big bed."

Midii flexed her fingers, amazed by his utter stupidity. She followed his ravenous gaze from herself to her partner, making every attempt to mask her shock. "I-I-" she stuttered, forcing a blush to rise to her cheeks. What could she say? Though she only half-heartedly wanted to press the matters further, her situation was a double-edged sword. Pressing the matter would cause a commotion and perhaps betray Trowa and herself as anything but two infatuated lovers. But by accepting the key, she would be admitting to herself that she did not mind the situation of only one bed. Midii breathed heavily, attempting to quell the fire that she had been subduing since her and Trowa's first encounter. "I don't know what-"

She felt his hand brush across her shoulder and take the key from the receptionist's outstretched hand. "C'mon," Trowa whispered in her ear. "We don't want to make a scene."

The receptionist smiled contently, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his vest and returned happily to the back room, shutting the door behind him.

Midii grabbed the key from Trowa's hand, making her way quickly toward the brass-plated elevators. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped at they shuffled into the deserved elevator. "Do you even know what he was implying?" Trowa jabbed his finger into the floor button and leaned against the wall.

"Of course I know. He's a guy, what else was he supposed to think. Besides, your making a big deal about being forced to have one bed instead of two hardly makes us seem madly in love." His voice was snaked with unfamiliar sarcasm that only heightened her annoyance. She blew through her bangs, shuffling roughly through the doors the moment they opened and making a beeline for the room.

She shoved the key into the door, applying her weight to the door in order to open it.

The room was a small replica of the downstairs lobby, only with minor changes. The curtains, instead of the once flowing blues, now hung a deep crimson around the windows. Midii peeked into the bedroom, the king size bed draped with a velvet comforter and ruby sheets. There was a couch in the small living area where they entered, situated to look out on the west-facing veranda. The sun was only beginning to set, still a massive golden orb along the horizon. It's light swathed the room in a golden hue, adding to it's mystic appearance.

But Midii's frustration still raged as she flung her bags onto the bed and slammed the bedroom door. Trowa spun, hearing the audible click as she locked the door. He frowned, placing his things gently beside the couch, pressing his ear against the door and jiggling the handle. "Midii…" he growled. "You know I can unlock the door anytime I want."

"Go ahead and try," she snapped from inside, sitting with her back against the doorway. "But it will take you awhile to pick the lock and I don't think that you'd be as bold as to knock down the door. By the time you're able to break in I'll have installed another lock onto the door that you can't break into."

Trowa heaved, shaking his head in disbelief and pacing up and down the room. "Then where the hell do you expect me to sleep?" The door creaked open as Midii chucked a set of sheets and two pillows at him. Then she slammed the door again.

"I see a couch out there," she shouted from behind the wood. "And I'm pretty sure it pulls out into another bed." Trowa cast a disdainful look at the couch, checking underneath the cushions. Sure enough, there was a rickety looking bed. 

"You can't be serious…" he mumbled. 

"Of course I am," she retorted harshly. Trowa glanced at his watch. It was only six-thirty, and already they were locking themselves in their rooms and acting like children. He groaned. The party was in an hour. He hoped that Midii would at least come to her senses by then, and he prayed when she emerged he still wouldn't harbor the unbearable urge to strangle her. 


	4. Chapter Four

But Nanashi Never Came

Chapter Four:

Midii took one last glance at her reflection, smoothing out the wrinkles in her black, satin dress.  The fabric clung to her ample curves, showing off every luscious angle.  The front dipped rather low, exposing the delicate flesh of her breasts in a seductive "V" cut, while the rear sunk to show the pale skin of her back.  Midii pulled the clip from her hair, letting the golden curls land between her shoulder blades.  Expertly applying a dab of gloss to her already rosy lips, she sighed contentedly.  She was the vision of any beauty.  Her eyes shone with admiration of her own skills.  Surely she would be able to win the heart of dear Mr. Stephan Pearson without much trouble.

Midii spun, feeling the fabric lift from her legs and spin along with her.  She giggled childishly as she heard the click of her shoes against the marbled floor in synchronized time with her heartbeat.  Surely with this ensemble she would be able to win the heart of any man.

She heard the pounding on the door and glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed stand.  The party would begin in less than ten minutes, and they still had yet to make it downstairs and into the limousine out front.

"Midii, I swear, if I have to break down this damn door I will.  Get out here, we have to leave!"  Midii's heart sank, her earlier elation slowly dwindling.  She glanced into the mirror, greeted with her own, self-satisfied smile.  Any normal man would fall for such an exquisite prize, but would Trowa?  She took a deep breath, her skin shining under the lighting.  It was so much easier to please the image in the mirror.

"That's it, I'm coming in!" he finally shouted.  Midii heard his shoulder shove against the wood.

"Don't be so bull headed!" she hollered, walking tersely from the bathroom.  She grabbed her coat from the chest on the end of the bed and unlocked the bedroom door.

Trowa fell through the doorway and staggering into Midii.  She shoved him away angrily.  "You're so impatient," she chided, running her hands over the front of her dress.  He stood, gazing at her for a minute.  Midii frowned, looking down and over her shoulder.  "What?" she snapped, desperately attempting to find the flaw he had obviously discovered.

Trowa cleared his throat, making a vain effort to subdue the blush rising to his cheeks.  "That, outfit-" he said, pointing at Midii's annoyed figure.  "Don't you think it a bit risqué?"

Midii's heart dropped, narrowing her eyes and recovering quickly.  "You want to get close to Pearson, don't you?" she snapped.  "_Most_ men would jump at an opportunity such as this."

Trowa cringed inwardly, her tone sending hot jolts of pain through his heart.  He wrinkled his nose in disgust.  "We're supposed to be married.  I don't want my wife looking as if she's, as if she's…up for the taking."  Midii smiled sweetly, draping her arms around Trowa's neck and nuzzling into his chest.  She sighed deeply, letting his sent wash over her senses.

"Is my dear Bennett jealous?" she mocked, feeling his muscles tighten.  "Don't worry," she giggled behind her hand, tickling him underneath the chin and giving him a peck on the cheek.  "I don't plan to sleep with him or anything."  Trowa shook himself from his stupor, following her down the hallway and into the elevators.

"I never said anything about you sleeping with him," Trowa stated frankly, tapping his fingers unconsciously to the soft ping of elevator music.  "But why the need for such an outfit then?"  Midii rolled her eyes, dragging her finger across the bare skin of her collarbone.

"You want to be noticed don't you?  Unless he sees something that catches his eye, Stephan Pearson won't bother to give us a second glance."  She snuggled next to Trowa, mocking the façade of an infatuated woman.

Trowa stiffened, watching Midii cautiously through the safety of his bangs.  She puzzled him to no extent, with her frequent shifts in moods and unusual behaviors.  One moment he could barely contain his rage, yet in a split instant later, he could fall so deeply in love he could no longer breathe.  His pulse quickened as he caught a glimpse down her dress.  She excited him, intoxicated him, and he had no way of stopping it.

The elevator doors slid open, the two of them making their way toward the limousine.  He watched as each male gaze feel on the woman latched to his arm, and suddenly a feeling of possession over came his senses.  He cast a reproving glare at each set of wandering eyes, letting a satisfied grin spread across his face as they quickly adverted their stares.

The doorman bowed as they left, rushing to open the car door as well.  "There you are Sir, have a nice evening," he whistled merrily, knocking on the hood as a signal to the driver.

Trowa glanced out the tinted windows, attempting vainly to keep his mind from wandering back to the image forged in the elevator.  "Mi—Renée," he asked, frowning slightly and refusing to look at her.  She pressed closer to him, sliding her hand up his jacket.  She hummed gently, continuing her role as she snuggled beneath his arm.  Trowa took a sharp breath, risking a glance at her roaming fingers.

"Driver," he shouted suddenly.  "Take us back a block, I forgot something."  Midii sat bolt upright, her eyes wide.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, grabbing for the tails of his jacket.  "You're ruining everything!"  Trowa slammed the door, Midii watching his shadow through the window.  He disappeared around the corner, returning less than five minutes later carrying a small box.

He plopped back into the seat, avoiding Midii's threatening gaze.

"Explain," she growled through clenched teeth, biting back her vicious anger, fingers tightened into shaking fists.  "What the f-"

Trowa waved his hand, fishing from his inside pocket a small velvet box.  He opened it, watching Midii's eyes light with amazement.  He smiled to himself, removing the diamond-adorned, platinum ring and sliding it over her finger.  Midii's mouth hung open, sighing as the light reflected from the gem and onto the black roof of the car.

"It's…It's…" she stuttered, unable to take her eyes off the treasure.

"It's our wedding ring," Trowa explained, amusement etched into his face.  "No one will believe we're truly married if you don't wear one of those."  She leaned back into his side, Trowa wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  "Do you like it?  I've never picked one out before…"

Midii nodded silently.  "It's gorgeous!" she gasped.  "But how did you pay for it?  Auntie gave me an outline of the budget, and a ring wasn't included, I'm sure!  It must have cost a fortune."  She turned, trying to catch the gaze staring out the window.  "Trowa…did you…?"

"Did I what?" he asked, his tone unwavering, his jaw line set.  Midii twisted the ring, slight confusion setting into her mind.  

"Trowa, did you buy this yourself?"  He was silent for a minute, battling with the thought of telling her that he had blown enough money on that single trinket to buy his own circus.

"Of course I bought it on my own," he joked, catching sight of the spotlights swirling around in the sky.  "You saw me walk into the store alone didn't you?  It's not like your Aunt suddenly appeared to give me shopping advice."  Midii growled in annoyance.

"You know that isn't what I meant!" she snapped, pulling away from him to grab her coat.  Trowa merely shrugged as the car came to a stop in front of the large iron gates. 

"Than you should really be more careful in what you say and what you mean," he cautioned mockingly, stepping onto the gravel and offering her his hand.  She took it, narrowing her eyes.  She couldn't understand him.  One moment he was demanding she be thrown of the entire Preventer organization, but then he went and did something as unforeseen as this.  She was no fool; she knew for a fact that Preventer did not hand out such large amounts of money for such luxuries.  Trowa had bought the gift on his own, but for the life of her she couldn't understand why.

Resting her hand in the nook of his arm, she glanced at him quickly.  He was so handsome, with his jade eyes outlined by the dark lashes and rugged features.  With each passing instant she found her rage toward him slowly dwindling into nothing, leaving her as helpless as any love-struck woman.  Midii stood a bit straighter, lifting her chin defiantly.

To hell with these emotions, she had set herself up for enough heartbreak in the past, and God be damned if she was ready to do it now.  But God did he feel and smell wonderful…

She shook herself, quelling the hormones raging within her chest.

"Shall we be off, Renée darling?" Trowa crooned, his voice sending shocks of pleasure down her spine.

"Lets," she replied, being sure to keep her voice cool and collected.

The party was already well underway.  Colossal ice statues festooned each table, flaunted by extravagant displays of food and champagne fountains.  Trowa began to merge into the massive crowd, mingling with the aristocratic society he'd rather avoid.  Midii hung on his arm, smiling sweetly and accepting a tall glass of crystalline wine, swirling the liquid expertly in the glass and taking an elegant sip.  "I don't see him," Trowa whispered from the corner of his mouth, waving to a couple across the reflection pool.

Midii blinked and shook her head, her curls sliding around her neck.  Trowa craned his neck above the crowd, attempting to catch a fleeting glimpse of the host, completely startled when he heard the sound of shattering crystal.  His head swiveled around, gaze resting on Midii's face.

Her features were twisted, eyes wide with shock.  Her entire body shook against his, fingers twisted into the fabric of his jacket.  "What's wrong?" he asked fearfully, having never seen her in such a state.  Midii pointed across the pool to a man sampling the caviar.  "Do you know him?" Trowa murmured, hesitation set into his face.  He wrapped his arms closely around his evening wife, struggling to suppress her trembling.

Midii nodded curtly, her face now set as a hot tear rolled past her chin.  "Yeah, that son of a bitch killed my family." 


End file.
